Life On Earth
by Mymeoh
Summary: Dib and Zim make a deal at the beginning of one summer. Dib helps Zim appear human and Zim doesn't destroy the earth. Life was complicated enough just being a teenaged boy and an exiled alien, but high school, The Doctor, and hormones make things that much harder. They find themselves ghost hunting, to dating (eugh) and even hitching a few rides across space and time.
1. Clearly Abandonment

Zim could not have seemed _more_ offended and defensive in Dib's eyes. One would think that the extraterrestrial could handle one summer on his own.

"It's the summer before high school starts," Dib rolled his amber colored eyes behind his thick glasses. "Dad got me into this great program, and I'm not going to miss out just because you want to shoot lasers at each other or try to blow up my head or whatever it is you plan to do!" He huffed and waved his arms for emphasis, wiggling his hands above his gargantuan head to prove to the alien how unreasonable he was being. This stupid game had been going on since the _sixth grade_, and Dib just wanted one fucking vacation for himself; it was only three months, anyway!

Zim scowled, looking the worst he had in the three years the human he'd known him. His arms were crossed over his chest, his wig twitched-presumably with every nervous tick of his antenna-and he kept clenching and popping his jaw. He glanced up, the anger and resentment burning fiery in his eyes, even through his synthetic contacts. Dib was sure he'd never seen anyone look so angry and depressed and defeated all at once.

One of them was going to have to give on this...and it was not going to be Dib. No siree. Nope. "..." He sighed, "Look, Zim." He rolled his eyes again when the alien squinted, attempting to glare harder, "I can't have you trying to destroy the Earth while I'm gone." Dib could swear that the alien crossed his arms tighter, as if protecting himself. "Let's make a deal."

That got the Irken's attention. His eyes widened with curiosity and his posture relaxed some. He seemed to notice and quickly tightened his arms again. The corners of his mouth turned down in another attempt of a scowl, but it really made him look like he was making a pug face.

Dib had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "You keep under wraps for a few months- No lasers, No baby-death cradles, and **NO** scheming to destroy the earth."

Zim's posture changed and he looked at Dib flatly, now settling his elbow into his hand and waving his arm around, fingers flexing, "And what, Hyooman, will Zim be receiving from this deal."

He was sure he'd regret this, but... "I'll help you fit in-with the human part at least," Dib scratched the back of his head a little at that last part. He could make Zim seem human...maybe...but he was pretty sure he could never find a way to fit in himself, especially in high school.

Zim nodded slightly then frowned. Earth was increasingly becoming more and more aware of alien life forms. Though it seemed many were accepted...Irken soldiers were not treated kindly in most galaxies. He was not looking forward to being discovered and finding himself executed. "...Yes."

"Yes?" Dib looked at him in confusion. He'd expected more of a fight.

"That was the answer you were looking for, yes?" His gloved hand flicked at an invisible speck of dirt as he looked away from the Earthling.

"...Okay...Yea. Yea, I was. I just...didn't expect that to be so easy." Dib took another moment and absorbed the moment. An agreeable Zim. That didn't sit well with him, but oh well. He still had to go home and pack. "Maybe take some time and work on the skin issue? That should keep you busy this summer."

_"Skin issue?"_ Zim hissed, narrowing his eyes in offense.

Dib sighed again. That was far more like the alien he knew. "Zim. I'm trying to help you here. Come on, it's part of the deal. No one here has green skin. Look at mine." He held up his hand, pale as snow-give or take a few freckles. "Humans have more, well, earthy skin tones. We range from peachy to sort of yellow to brown ...do some research and make it convincing. Don't just paint it on...make it good. Unless, of course, you can't."

A dangerous light flickered through Zim's eyes and he flinched as if struck. Another odd reaction that Dib wanted to comment on but was cut short when the alien spoke. "Fine. Zim will make a convincing earth skin, and it will fool even the best...but what will be said when former schoolmates inquire on the change."

He shrugged a little then grinned, "High schoolers are pretty stupid. Make something up. Say you had a med change or you went to the beach or something... use your imagination." Dib looked at his watch and grimaced. He really needed to pack. On that note he turned away, hurrying towards his house without another word.

"...Irkens do not possess imaginations, Dib-Worm," Zim murmured to the vacant space that the human had occupied moments before. He turned away and strolled to his base. A small smirk played on his lips. _Imagination, huh?_


	2. AH! BUTTS

Zim threw himself straight into work. He set his computer up as a failsafe-just in case- as he removed his pak. He had several human pallets open on his screens in front of him, and he smirked. Dib would never know what hit him. He worked for a week straight, ignoring the pesterings and gigglings of GIR as he buried himself into the project.

After days without breaks or many snacks, Zim replaced his pak on his body and stood in front of a mirror. He stretched and smirked so wide it was a devious little grin. "Human Skin, activate." He spread his short arms wide and stood proudly, waiting for the second skin to envelop his body. When he perfected the tool, he'd create a silent, mental command. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as warmth started covering his green flesh. His antennae twitched with a foreign scent, irritatingly falling forward to escape the olfactory overload. That was getting a bit _too_ warm. Okay, that was bordering-

"OW!" He shrieked and opened his eyes. His pak was sparking and starting to smoke as the tanned "skin" started melting, only partially around his face and arms. "OW, OW, STOP NO!" Zim screeched again and ripped off his pak, grunting loudly as the computer slammed a life support cable into his back. "No-AH! BUTTS!" Swearing wasn't quite his forte, but he'd get it at some point. Butts was pretty close...and it was probably the foulest thing he'd ever screamed in the English language. It was pretty foul in his mind that his Pak was now laying on the floor covered in a mess of skins and goo and char.

He tugged his antennae and started shouting again, this time in Irken. Angry clicks and bug-like buzzes filled his lab as he thrashed about, absolutely livid. "STUPID SKIN! STUPID EARTH! STUPID STUPID STUPID DIB AND HIS STUPID SPOOTY DEAL!" Zim screamed and kicked the useless pak. How was he supposed to leave his base, _NOW_?

In a fit of rage he grabbed a sheet of paper and slammed it on the desk. He poured all of his anger onto the sheet, a pen firmly rooted in his hand. He took a moment and looked at the design only to snarl and rip it into pieces. "Blasted things!" Zim glowered at the pak one last time and grunted again as the life support twitched against his back. He really needed a stretch and wasn't about to get one. That pissed him off further. Using his adrenaline filled hatred as a fuel, he got to work on the most intricate design the Irken could have ever created.

Nearly the rest of the summer had passed and Zim stood back, admiring his work. Who said Irkens weren't creative?


	3. Bees?

Dib sighed to himself and stared at the sign on the sidewalk, a tired expression coating his every feature. The summer had really taken it out of him. The day after dealing with Zim, Dib was sent off to, as his father put it, **"REAL SCIENCE CAMP! Run by my company, son! You'll be doing your old man proud at the top of the charts there!"** How the Hell was Dib supposed to know it was practically a labor camp for geniuses. Sure, he didn't have to go hiking, or swimming, or really step outside; but wasn't that supposed to be part of _summer_? As soon as he had returned from the stupid camp, his father dragged him and Gaz on a "family vacation" that included Dib getting a wicked sunburn from not having seen sunlight in almost three months. He'd only been outside for, like, twenty minutes. Jeez.

He groaned and adjusted his backpack on his itchy red shoulders and reached up, adjusting his ever growing hair scythe. It had finally gotten a kink in it, making it look like a little lightning bolt; at least one good thing had come from the summer. A small grin tugged on his lips as he saw the bus driving down the street. First day of high school. Sure, his peers were terrible, the food would probably be terrible, and, of course, Zim would be terrible-Dib's grin formed into a frown. What was the point he was trying to make?

Hanging his head, the young man stepped onto the bus, sitting in the closest empty seat next to a quiet hispanic boy, staring out the window. Dib shrugged his backpack to the floor and began to rummage through it, making sure he had everything he would need for the first day back. He'd already checked twice before leaving his house, but it was better safe than sorry. "Okay," he mumbled, "binders, papers, pencils, paranormal handbook, handcuffs, binding tape, ball gag..."

There was a small cough and he looked up. Gretchen, a violet haired girl with whom he'd attended school since elementary, and Iggins were staring at him with wide eyes. "...Handcuffs?" the girl raised her eyebrows high. "Aren't you getting a little carried away with freshman romances, Dib?"

"Maybe he's gonna use them on _you_, Gretchen," Iggins giggled and grabbed the girls arms, playfully holding them in front of her as if cuffing them himself. She shrieked and blushed, smacking her classmate with her purse.

"But out, Iggins! God!" She buried her face into her hands, now blushing down to her freckled shoulders.

Iggins covered her ears and grinned when she squeaked as he winked at Dib. "I bet she'd like handcuffs."

The boy next to Dib chuckled and shook his head, annoying him almost as much as the two in front of him. He squinted and glanced around, people were starting to stare. "That's not what these are for, Iggins! They're for research and protecting mankind only!"

"Oh man, again with that?" he dropped his hands from Gretchen's ears and flopped back into his seat. "Come on. You've been going on about this stupid thing for years, and for what this time? No one's even seen Zim around! Relax."

Dib zipped up his backpack and sat up straight. No one had seen Zim? He glanced around. Wasn't he supposed to be on this bus? The alien had taken to riding it after the two week set of rainstorms they had in seventh grade... "...Really?" He asked, well after Iggins and Gretchen had turned their attentions to their schedules.

With the bus parked and emptied, Dib shouldered his backpack-with another twinge of sunburnt agony-and walked to his homeroom. He couldn't help but chuckle when he saw on each desk was a student's name written on an place card. He located his seat quickly and settled down, pulling out his schedule and a pen, almost immediately doodling as his mind drifted off. A yawn pulled at his lips. Tiredly, he sunk onto his free hand, absently glancing around every few moments to see what students were filing in. The bell rang and a middle-aged, but pleasant, looking woman walked to the front of the class.

"Hello, everyone! Welcome to your freshman year!" She cooed and Dib yawned again, missing her name and all of her overly chipper little statements. He was sure they were generic and heart-warming and was tugged entirely out of a movie from the eighties. He was sure he'd started to doze off. "-mbrane?"

"Huh-wha?" Dib jolted, sitting up straight. The student he'd sat next to on the bus shuddered and glared at him in disgust-or more specifically, the trail of drool that was sliding down his wrist.

"Are you Dib Membrane, Sweetie?" The teacher repeated. He nodded and she smiled, "Better get some more sleep tonight. No more parties for you." She was tutting at him like a nanny, making him blush as a few students sniggered. Ms Bitters would've likely just snarled and have gone on with her life. He wasn't sure what he would prefer. The next words out of her mouth made him pay rapt attention.

"...Zim?" A few students murmured as the teacher frowned at her sheet. "Zim, I can't remember where I sat you. I needed to talk to you about your last name. I never saw it on your paperwork."

"Bees," the boy next to Zim sat up as tall as his tiny frame would allow, now ignoring the disgusting drooly mess Dib had neglected to clean. "Zim Bees."

Dib nearly choked on his own tongue. "ZIM!?" How had he not noticed? He stared at the boy who seemed human until just this moment. Dib inwardly swore at himself for not noticing the missing ears or lack of a nose. He'd gotten far too used to these little quirks.

Several students, most of whom had attended school with the rivaled duo, turned and stared. Most of them were chittering and whispering in awe. Finally, Iggins leaned forward and grinned at Zim, "Wow, buddy, what happened to your skin!?"

Zim folded his hands on his desk in a business like manner and glanced towards the annoying student, not even turning his head. "Medications and antibiotics."

His peers seemed to accept this vague answer and responded with more awe and interest before the woman standing at the front of the room cleared her throat, reeling the class back in for the remainder of homeroom.

It wasn't until they were in the hallway, filling their newly appointed lockers with their school supplies that the students felt free to talk out loud again. Dib found his locker on one side of a fire extinguisher, the alien's just on the other, leaving them a few feet of space between each other. It was Dib who broke the heavy silence starting to fill the air between the two rivals.

"Bees?" he looked at Zim in utter amusement, his nose crinkling as he tried not to laugh.

"GIR chose it. His only part in this whole affair. I had to give him something to leave me to my devices." Zim sighed, as if bored, and reached out, tugging a piece of peeling skin from Dib's sunburn only to recoil in disgust. "YOU'RE MOLTING!"

For the first time in three months, Dib let out a loud, hearty laugh.


	4. Gym Class is War

Dib was confused, and Zim found it very amusing. The human gave him strange looks every time they crossed paths as if he couldn't understand what was going on. Finally, when Zim strolled into the gymnasium, dressed clad in the hideous gym uniform right down to the white tennis shoes, he was greeted with an expression of triumph. Dib rolled his eyes and grinned at the thigh high black socks and elbow length gloves. Surprisingly, these were the only items that set Zim apart from their classmates now.

Wait. "Something's missing," Dib murmured and stared at Zim curiously. The irken turned towards him as if sensing the attention and glowered before smirking, stretching out his skin and turning his back towards the human. "HEY! Your back thing!" The alien's shirt fit snugly against his false skin, giving no hint of a bulge or bump, leaving Dib's jaw agape. Didn't he need that to live? How did he work past that? Was it an illusion?

As if answering the last question Zim smirked wider and reached back, with a bit of difficulty, patting between his shoulder blades to show there was no hidden pak. "Jealous, Dib-Worm?"

He wasn't sure why he would be jealous, after all, he already had a flat back. This didn't quell his curiosity, however, "...How did you...?"

"You gave Zim a challenge. Zim took it." The currently tanned Irken stretched his arms above his head and grinned as he flexed his fingers. He was clearly proud of his accomplishment and wanted to show off his greatness.

Dib opened his mouth to attempt another way of asking only to be interrupted by a loud whistle. He sighed and sat down as the teacher introduced himself in a near military fashion.

"ALRIGHT, MAGGOTS," the overweight man screamed, making his neck bulge with veins against the fat of his chins, "WELCOME TO THE FIRST YEAR OF HELL! TODAY. WE PLAY DODGEBALL!"

No one seemed too intimidated at the idea. Most of the freshman hooted and hollered at the idea of one of their favorite childhood games. They'd be versing each other after all. "And to show you worthless sacks of crud exactly how useless you are in this school, I'm going to have the senior varsity division show you what's what!" The fat teacher chucked a ball behind him and stepped out of the way. With the thrown ball in hand, a beefy teenager with stubble smattering his chin stepped forward, several monstrous students following behind him.

"Oh shit," Dib groaned, reflecting the views of most of his classmates. He looked towards Zim who seemed unaffected, per his usual self. This really was going to be hell for the human teen.

"Scared, Worm-Baby?" Zim muttered and looked at him, a challenging grin on his features. "Zim will make a deal with you," his voice nearly sung out in glee at Dib's look of terror at the towering team in front of them. "If you last longer than Zim in this pathetic Earth game, I will show you my achievement," He pat between his shoulder blades again to emphasize what he meant.

He blinked for a moment, trying to register what the alien was saying to him. "What the hell will you get out of the deal if I lose?!"

He made the alien chuckle as he rolled his false eyes, now looking down at his stockings. Zim pulled a pill of thread off the fabric and flicked it away, "Zim will enjoy throwing you into the middle of those filthy meat-beasts." His eyes flicked up towards the sea of grunting hormones that made up the seniors. They were excitedly punching each other and howling as they waited for the game to start.

What? Dib narrowed his eyes behind his thick glasses. Zim had to be up to something. He wanted the boy incapacitated so he could release some nefarious plot against Earth, he was sure. Dib cracked his knuckles. He shouldn't be making a deal with a risk like that, but this was Zim they were talking about. For years Zim often faked illness, sitting out in gym as he gleefully watched their peers being battered by softballs, dodge balls, and the occasional Frisbee. There was no way the alien was in proper shape to play a simple game that Dib was certain he didn't even comprehend. "Fine. You're on. But you have to show me everything about what you did. No hiding shit."

"Fine," Zim agreed dismissively and walked to the center line, picking up one of the colorful, rubber balls. "Zim does not produce any 'shit' to hide, regardless," he added beneath his breath. He bounced the projectile in his palm and slapped it with his fingers, a smile tugging at his lips at the hollow sound it made.

"READY!" The fat teacher yowled, raising his hand in what seemed to be far too much effort. The students all took their positions, most of Dib's classmates looking a bit more nervous than excited. His jowls jiggled with his next scream, "GO!"

Dib tore his eyes away from Zim and focused on the task at hand. He shouted and ducked, rolling out of the way when several balls were hurled towards his monumental-IT'S NOT THAT BIG!-head. He grabbed a ball from the floor and chucked it blindly across the line while slamming a hand against the linoleum, pulling himself back to his feet. He squeaked and jumped over a classmate as they flew out in front of him, clutching their face in absolute pain. He breathed hard, already feeling a bit worn out after a summer of being cooped up but underneath the sluggishness, he felt his muscles from years of duels and battles starting to fire back into gear.

Dib swallowed hard and held up his ball, blocking one of the colorful globes from slamming him in the face. That was close! He hopped to the side and chucked another ball, wincing in pain as he accidentally pelted Gretchen in the back of the head. She fell over with a whump and a whistle blew as she was tugged to the sidelines, the sign of another fallen teammate.

When what felt like hours, when in reality was only twenty minutes, had passed, Dib looked up from behind a pile of fallen students, panting hard as he clutched a ball. His forehead was drenched with sweat and the muscles that seemed fired up only minutes before were now feeling like tons added to his skinny frame. He scanned his team's side for any sign of another classmate and almost choked on his tongue for the second time that day.

Zim, at his "glorious" (ha) height of 4'11" was throwing himself around like an epileptic squirrel. Dib furrowed his brows together and watched him for a moment before realizing what was happening. That tiny little invader was throwing balls as hard as he could, eyes ablaze with furious confidence. Dib blinked for a moment then remembered their deal. Oh Hell no was he going to be thrown into a pile of seniors! Especially if Zim beat them-not that that would happen-but they'd pound him senseless! Dib ran out with his ball before the coach could disqualify him for hiding and whipped it hard, shouting in excitement as he finally hit his first target.

Zim faltered then looked up, flashing another challenging smirk towards the boy. "Thought you'd given up, Earth-Stink!"

"Never!" He shouted and laughed, running past Zim to pick up several more missiles, chucking them across the line. He swore he'd heard his rival laugh but had no time to process it. Zim shoved him to the side and leaned back, letting a ball fly between them and smack the wall.

"Watch it, Earthling! I'm not going to lose to a bunch of pathetic stink-meats! Now pick up that ball and throw it, you pathetic whelp!"

Huh. Zim could've let Dib lose right then and there-but once more, there was no time to think on it! Dib threw himself back into the game as his second wind hit, fueled by the adrenaline and excitement of the game. The enemy of his enemy today was apparently a pack of sweaty eighteen year olds.

Dib and Zim started working harder than before, pulling each other out of the way, throwing each other ammo, and shouting tactics. It was almost distracting when Dib looked to his left and saw his classmates shrieking despite their injuries, shouting in fervor to him and Zim to finish up the damned game. The boys laughed in excitement, eyes wide. They were going to win this! They were-

Fuck.

The remaining seniors, maybe six in total, each grabbed one ball and reeled back. Before he could shout a warning, balls were being thrown violently towards them, knocking both boys in the face. Dib felt his nose crack and his world spin. The only thoughts he had next were how ridiculous Zim's loud screeching clicks sounded.

"Zim. Stop it," Dib muttered, annoyed. Why was that idiot holding his hand?

"Oh my god, Oh my god..." a soft, small set of hands cupped his own, rubbing and petting quickly over the skin. Dib tried to mumble in confusion when his fingers were rubbed against a soft cheek, hindered only by...metal?

He opened his eyes slowly and blinked as spots worked their way out of his vision. Gretchen was sitting next to him, holding his hand against her cheek, despite the headgear that kept scratching the skin. "oh..." he blushed. A girl was holding his hand...

Gretchen's eyes snapped open and she squeaked, thrusting his hand back onto the blue nursebed. "Hi!"

"Ow..." that was loud. He pushed himself onto his elbows and sat up, almost falling back in dizziness. "The hell happened..." Dib reached around for his glasses. "Did we win?"

A soft, annoyed snore answered him. Zim was sleeping on the second nurse bed, his face covered in half healed bruises. Asshole entered his stasis mode. That jerk. Dib wished he could heal himself just by sleeping.

"um...Not really. You both lost pretty bad."

"Oh..."

"Zim got his face punched in after he started wailing on the guys who cornered you two. He's been asleep since he came in here." Gretchen sighed and turned to him, reaching up with an icepack. Dib hissed then groaned in relief and steadied it on his face. "You have a broken nose...your glasses survived, at least. They flew off your face at some point." She held them up for his blurred eyes to see.

"...Do you know...who lost first?"

"I think you both did at the same time?" Gretchen supplied, awkwardly.

"Do me a favor? Tell Zim he lost first. It'd mean a lot to me," he spoke without thinking and grinned weakly. The violet haired girl swooned-Dib assumed it was from nodding so quickly.


	5. Playdate

Like many times before, Dib took the familiar route towards Zim's base. The only difference this time was the smug little invader moving in step beside him. Dib cautiously looked over at the currently golden "skinned" alien and squinted his eyes, trying to figure him out. What was he getting at? Why the hell, after all these years, did he suddenly change?

After several minutes had passed, Zim's false eyes looked into Dib's bruised ones and narrowed dangerously. "WHAT?!" he barked.

Cringing at the sudden sound, Dib cleared his throat. Fuck, his head still hurt. He decided to go for the direct approach, "what are you plotting?"

"Enh?" Zim tilted his hand, looking as though he hadn't been about to rip out Dib's throat.

Dib rolled his eyes, "Don't play stupid, Zim. You're acting suspicious. You showed up after however many years and-well-...you acted like you_ belonged_ or something. Not really your usual tactic."

The Irken straightened up and folded his hands behind his back like a soldier. "Zim is, how you had put it, 'fitting in,' yes? If I am not doing a satisfactory job, you had better assist, Dib-Worm," he accented his name with an inhuman hiss. "We had a deal."

Deal...?

What deal!?

He wouldn't make a deal with Zim if he...wait. "Oh. We do." It hit him suddenly. He and that stupid alien made a pact in the beginning of the summer. True to his word, it seemed like nothing terrible had happened while Dib had been at summer camp. _Weird._ "So you really didn't, y'know, wreck anything this summer?"

Zim gave him a flat look. He wasn't about to admit he completely destroyed his Pak. However, that hardly mattered. The human was about to find out what he'd spent the entire summer working on.

Through their long silences and biting conversation, the two had made quick work of arriving at the base. Dib sighed and looked warily at Zim's "elevator" toilet. "You know. Humans typically use stairs or hidden bookcases or something. A kitchen toilet is pretty suspicious." He received a grunt in response but didn't miss the contemplative look on Zim's face as he studied the not-so-hidden entrance.

With a wave of his hand, Zim decided to dismiss the statement, at least temporarily, and pushed Dib to stand in the bowl. He hopped up and stood on the tank, enjoying the moment where he was the taller of the pair. "You going to flush this thing, or what?" Leave it to Dib to interrupt his thoughts.

"Impatient Monkey," Zim mumbled and did as the human had oh so rudely suggested, sending them into the proper elevator. He stepped out and walked with purpose towards a table filled blue prints and small odd shaped gadgets.

Dib paused by a nearby table with the pieces of the burned and shattered Pak. He grinned and took a moment to pick up the outer shell, turning it over in his hands. "Wow." Zim really did a number on this thing, didn't he? How the hell did he survive blowing up his life support any-"OW. Goddamnit, Zim!" He clutched his hand and rubbed away the soreness, glaring at Zim. The alien glowered right back then turned to the table, gingerly setting the shell back among the wires and fragments.

"Did you want to see Zim's amazing work or no?" Zim acted as if the previous moment hadn't happened and ignored the pile of junk. He turned back to the blue prints and waved his hand, beckoning Dib to look.

Dib dropped his shoulders and sighed. Whatever; he was still curious. "Yes."

Zim nodded in approval and unzipped his pink hoodie, letting it drop to the floor by his feet. He inwardly disengaged his disguise, and as he pulled his shirt over his head, his wig and skin began to recede into his back. It was like the tanned skin was melting away to be replaced by the pale forest flesh that was distinctly Irken. Dib felt his jaw go slack and was not even remotely aware that he was staring. Thankfully, puberty hadn't entirely rooted by this point, but this was something he'd think on at a much later date. The alien took the moment his torso was free of cloth and fake flesh to stretch and smooth back his long antennae. A long claw reached from behind his back and set a small case in his hand. With a quick movement of his fingers, Zim had filled the container with his contacts and set it back into the claw, letting it retreat quickly.

He smirked, knowing he had Dib's complete attention. The foolish hyooman always seemed entranced by things outside of the "norm." Zim turned around and showed off his smoothed over back. Fitted carefully between his shoulder blades was something akin to a robotic skin graft. Or...maybe that was exactly what it was, Dib wondered to himself. "How does that work?

Zim fought his grin and feigned annoyance. "Of course you wouldn't know," he loved showing his superiority-especially to someone as smart as the Dib-Worm. He'd never let on that he viewed the boy as a higher intelligence than his peers, of course. The very-much-more-intelligent-than-Dib alien quickly launched into a long spiel about the mechanics or multidimensional pockets that was connected to each data port and button. His mouth turned up into a wide grin as he used his hands to quickly convey his new methods of collecting solar energy into his pak to reduce his need to rest and eat and how oh so impressive his new invention was compared to the bubble pak that was on his back before.

It seemed like the alien was never going to take a breath when he finally rested his hands on his hips and stood proudly. "Zim calls it a 'Flat-Pak.' It is the first new version in over six hundred years. It's revolutionary. I am wonderful and amazing."

Dib rolled his eyes but smiled, reflecting Zim's positive body language. "What did your Tallest-guys have to say about this? They've got to be impressed."

The tiniest flicker of pain crossed the Irken's face and the human was sure the alien was about to barf or start screaming. He quickly recovered and waved his hand again, "Zim is not ready to share yet. I enjoy being the first to test this new technology." Dib was pretty certain this was a fucking lie...but whatever. It's not like anything really made sense with the male in front of him. Which reminded him.

"Does your species have a gender?"

"What?!" Zim sputtered and crossed his arms, offended. "Of course, stupid!"

Dib winced at the sudden sharp voice. "Well, it's hard to tell!"

Zim huffed harder and a deep blue green covered his cheeks. "IT IS NOT HARD TO TELL!" He reached up and yanked on his own antennae, ignoring the pain as he held it high for Dib to see. "DOES THIS LOOK CURLY TO YOU!?"

Huh. Was that the only difference? "Um...no...not really?"

"Not really?" Zim mumbled a series of angry clicks and ticks that made him sound like an infuriated insect. "Irken female are much more feral. You earthlings should consider yourself lucky Zim is male. I would have torn you limb from limb the moment you stood in my way. Males are far more civilized."

Civilized, huh? Dib grinned and set his hands on his hips. "Well, I'll thank fate for being so kind to me. I wouldn't want to see you if you were uncivilized."

Zim smacked his shoulder and rolled his glossy, red eyes. "Stupid Earth-Boy."

Dib grinned even wider, and Zim was sure his face would split. "So, if you're done showing off, maybe you could show me a bit more of your lab?" Zim growled but sighed, shrugging in a seeming indifference.

"If it will keep you quiet, I suppose." The Irken was sure he had an idea of how to pass the time. It wasn't like he could use the company, of course. No. The earthling was just a burden.

It wasn't long before the two were settled in front of one of Zim's large screens. "Okay, so how does this work?" Dib mused, staring at the flat screen in his hands.

"Surely you have played a videogame before, Dib-stupid."

Dib scowled but did his best to tap at the screen, grinning as the buttons seemed to light up, responding to his request. He looked up and started experimenting with the little Dib-fighter that had appeared on the screen, making him move around and jump. "I had no idea you played games."

That earned him another eye roll and slap to Dib's bruised jaw. Zim grumbled to him to focus on the damned game and made a show of demonstrating what each and every button did-as though the young scientist were brain dead. The two held each other's challenging gaze momentarily before just jumping into a battle.

This was nothing compared to the actual battles they had in the past, but it was nonetheless fun. Dib found himself grinning despite his avatar being pounded into the digital dirt by Zim's. "Best two out of three!" He shouted, managing to coerce the alien into not one more round, but three more hours of games before he went home.


	6. Investigation

Dib had no idea this was how he was going to spend his first weekend without homework. He had every intention of hurrying home and spending some time catching up with Gaz, who would very likely ignore and rebuff every attempt to talk. However, he was sure she would appreciate the new game he'd downloaded. It was important to him to get some time with her every so often, just to ease the guilt of leaving her home alone most afternoons. However, his plans had taken a definite spiral away from his intentions.

Zim walked to his right, an angry expression in his false lenses matched only by the scowl of his lips. He adjusted his grip on the small scanner in his fingers. Last year, had Zim invited himself along on a ghost hunting trip, Dib would have been skeptical; but he was spending more and more time with the human. It was almost like he needed the company, but Dib wasn't about to suggest that.

It was the person who flanked his left, armed with a baseball bat and a terrified expression who surprised him. Gretchen let out a shaky breath and looked up at Dib, teeth clenched hard enough to make her headgear look stressed.

He sighed again and closed his eyes. He had just shrugged his backpack over his shoulders and was in mid conversation with Zim. They'd been talking about...what was it again? Ah, chemistry class. He'd been shocked that Zim had actually taken notes and was scrutinizing the pathetic manner in which humans attempted to understand the elements. It was almost funny. He'd been about to reply about his own personal studies when a shout of his name down the hallway deterred the both of them.

"DIB! DIB WAIT!" Gretchen sprinted down the hallway, hair bouncing behind her wildly. She threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking him off his feet. Her shoulders were shaking and her breath was erratic. He'd been too stunned to notice the baggy, mismatched clothing that covered her tiny frame.

"Um-Uh-" Dib stammered and looked from side to side before catching Zim's eyes. He grimaced in confusion. He asked silently for assistance-of which he'd received none. Zim was curled away from the two, a disgusted and panicked expression fitting his features.

She pulled back when she'd calmed, keeping her hands on his shoulders. "You still do all that ghost stuff right? What's it called...Para-something...Paranormal!" When he barely responded with more than a stiff nod, Gretchen turned to Zim, grabbing him into a hug. "Zim! You both have to help me! The girl's locker room is haunted!"

Zim stiffened and hissed, shoving her off of him. His eyes were wider than Gretchen's now and he looked just as freaked, if not more. "Ugh! What is haunted?" He brushed his hands down his pink sweatshirt, as if cleaning off all of her disgusting germs.

"The girl's locker room!" She repeated, ignoring how offended he was.

Zim grunted in frustration. He crossed his arms, looking at Dib expectantly. "Ah-No." Dib seemed to snap out of his shocked state and looked between the two, "he wants to know what...I mean...Hold on, Gretchen. Zim. A haunting is when the spirit of someone or something is active and makes itself known. A spirit," he continued before the tiny alien could open his mouth, "is the remnants of someone who died. A phantom or a specter...you know. A ghost."

His false eyebrows furrowed together and left the alien looking very contemplative. He muttered under his breath as though he were reading off a computer screen while a far away look settled on his face. "Ahhhh. That doesn't actually happen, does it?"

Dib rolled his eyes. He was used to skepticism by now, even from his longest known enemy. He would have thought that with all of his space travel, Zim wouldn't question these things...but the alien wasn't always the smartest or most accepting of new ideas. What really caught Dib's attention now was the fact that someone recognized his talents! "Wait! You want me to help? Me?!"

The grin on his face left Gretchen feeling a little unsettled, but she shrugged it away. "Well, yea...this is the sort of thing you've been talking about since kindergarten. If anyone can help, you can. And, well..." She looked at Zim, "you follow him everywhere, so I thought..."

Dib felt elated. "Really?" Someone had noticed him! The last few weeks had been great at school, even though he and Zim had been creamed by the seniors in dodgeball. His nose was healed and he didn't feel as ostracized. It was apparently impressive that they stood up to them. But this? This was something that left him on a whole other level. "I can help! Yes! Sure! We both will!"

Zim shrieked and glared at him, "Hey!"

"See, we know that this will help our reputations," Dib hissed, setting his hand on Zim's shoulder. "You know, normal teenager stuff."

Zim, not realizing how abnormal ghost hunting was at this age, sighed and nodded. This was part of that stupid deal they had renewed. As Dib helped him further with fitting in with the humans, Zim would put off the destruction of Earth, little by little. It was a strange, backwards deal in Dib's mind, but whatever worked was fine with the protector of the planet.

So now, hours later, Zim and Dib were sneaking into the school with Gretchen. Dib had paced back and forth in front of the school gate, looking for a weak spot when Zim shouted, pointing up at the sky. Gretchen gasped and stared upwards, effectively missing the laser he used to open up the locks. The following smirk at Dib was combined with a crossing his arms after shoving the gate open. "Let's go."

Dib sighed and shook his head before ducking it and leading the way in. He shoved Zim to the side before the alien could destroy the school doors and moved to his knees. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his junior-eyeball lock picking kit. After several long minutes of Zim tapping his foot and Gretchen looking over her shoulder in a quiet panic, the lock finally clicked, and the three were through the door.

"Keep down," Dib said quietly, wanting to avoid any night janitors as they hurried through the halls. He pushed Zim to the front of their line, "tell me if there are any changes in the electromagnetic fields around the halls. They should spike down the gymnasium hallway if the locker room is really haunted. It could be that the school in general is haunted."

Zim sighed and swatted his hand. "Don't touch Zim," he mumbled. Lifting the lightweight scanner, he stalked forward. He grumbled about knowing better than Dib on how to scope out an area, "stupid malfunctioning device..." He whacked the scanner and started to walk faster before shuffling and stomping to a stop. He knelt down and started tapping the screen before gesturing for Dib to look it over. Two sets of eyes were better than one.

"School sure is creepy at night," Gretchen murmured behind Dib, eyes locked on his bent over rear end. It was great how his trench coat split open at his waist, framing that perfectly shaped bottom in those tight jeans. She breathed out and calmed herself now that she had something to focus on. This didn't seem so scary with Dib in front of her. She had bumped into that perfect bottom, blushing when she'd realized Dib and Zim had both stopped, now staying at their crouched position.

"Ah...what is it, guys?" She blushed and pulled back, peeking around to look at their faces. Zim leaned in close to Dib, showing him the scanner and pointing. Gretchen stifled a giggle at the way the smaller of the two directed his whole body towards Dib, shoulders squared and head nearly touching Dib's chin while he leaned over. The giggle, however, was replaced with quiet jealousy that sobered her amusement. Lucky Zim.

The "lucky" male grunted and pulled a stylus and began making making markings on the screen, snarling quietly as Dib started gesturing. His hands were clearly too close to Zim's face, she mused. Gretchen scooted closer and cleared her throat, "Guys?"

Dib's eyes snapped up and he swallowed, right. Girl. Talk. Now. Zim elbowed him when the human stayed silent more than thirty seconds. "Ah-we're discussing where the strongest readings are comings from. He thinks it'll be in the west hallway, but the weirdest signal is coming from the southeast."

"There might be a few..." Gretchen worried her lip. "Which one's closer?" She tightened her sweaty palms around the baseball bat.

Zim rolled his eyes at the girl's apprehension and looked at the screen, "Southeast." He sighed and dropped his shoulders. "Come along," he spoke as though this were the most pointless thing he'd ever done. Tucking the stylus back into the scanner, Zim turned around and began skulking down the hallway to the left. He huffed and reached up, rubbing his eyes. Was it these stupid contacts or had it gotten even dimmer in this decrepit building?

"So..." Dib began after they began their slow walk once more. He needed a distraction from his aching thighs, this position was killing him! "You never told us why you think the place is haunted."

She wiped one palm against her jeans and switched hands, doing the same with the second. "All of my clothes went missing after gym class. And ever since last Christmas...with all of that alien business...and that Doctor guy... well, I figured you'd be the one to come to. You were the only one who wasn't in a panic." She, of course, mentioned nothing about Dib's years screaming that Zim was an alien.

"Psht. You sure someone didn't just steal them?" Zim's disdain could be heard despite the fact he was several feet ahead of them. He cringed at the Doctor's name, so he focused instead on the clothing issue.

"They went missing off of my body," Gretchen hissed and hugged herself, squeaking when she smacked Dib in the back of the head.

"Ow!" He grabbed his skull. Baseball bats could _hurt_, man.

"SHHHHHHHH" Zim snarled and whirled around, "It'll hear you." Dib swore he could see Zim's angry red eyes through the lenses.

"What will?" Gretchen squeaked again and slurped, sucking up some of the drool that her headgear caused.

With a shudder and a grunt, Zim straightened his back. "These aren't...ghosts...or whatever. They are, however, something similar."

"Similar?" Dib looked over his shoulder at the scanner, "how so?"

"Let's call them...Energy specters? To make it easier. The actual word would be a little hard to articulate at the moment." He drifted his false pupils towards Gretchen, indicating it was a definite alien word. Dib nodded in agreement and stood up, mirroring Zim's movements. He held his hand out and helped Gretchen stand, ignoring the blush that spread over his own cheeks. Gosh, her hands were soft...Focus!

"So...what do energy specters do?" Dib asked slowly, looking at Zim.

"Ah, the usual. Typically, they possess electrical equipment," he drawled slowly, "but...they're usually more-ah-playful? That's the term, right? They cause mischief."

"So...harmless?" Dib tried.

Zim laughed and shook his head, "Ah, puny Dib. They are anything but. They start small, but once they've found somewhere they like-meaning," he pressed his fingertips together, "they've found a food source they enjoy..."

"But there hasn't been anything weird electronically!" Dib exclaimed, cutting him off, "No telltale light flickers, no static..."

"Actually...in the girl's locker room..." Gretchen interjected meekly before quickly trailing off. "But, do they just eat the energy and steal clothing?" This was all a lot to take in. The hair on the backs of her arms and neck started to rise in fear. She shivered and set the bat down in favor of rubbing her hands over her arms, only making the hair raise even more.

The alien snarled at the two who were talking over him. "Do you want to know or not?!" He snapped then covered his own mouth and made a shushing noise. "They start by eating energy and playing tricks," his serpentine tongue caught on the "s" sound, drawing it out softly, "as they gain confidence and power, they feed off of the activities around them. You see...most intelligent creatures-hyoomans, for example-send off minute electrical pulses. These alter depending upon their own energy levels and moods." He clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "Zim's kind hasn't had many issues with these creatures, as we do not have many moods," he added with an air of superiority.

"Wait-your kind?" Gretchen wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes.

"Sociopaths," Dib rolled his eyes and fought the urge to smack Zim upside the head. "So...they feed off of the pulses that are put in the air?"

"Until that's not enough to sustain them. Then they take over the forms until they're completely drained of energy. This will continue for as long as it takes to consume an entire species. Occasionally, entire planets."

"Great. Just...fucking great," Dib groaned and began to pace the short width of the hallway, gripping his hair. "How do we deal with them?"

Zim opened his mouth to speak, "Easy. We only have toNNGH" And with a loud ZAP and POP, he slumped forward onto the floor.


	7. ALLONS-Y

**"Functions online,"** the flat pak's deep, digitized voice echoed through Zim's aching skull. He felt heavy, like ...no. It felt like something heavy was in his whole body-as though the massive was completely on top of him, right under his skin. His antennae twitched as muffled groans and coughs tried to filter through them.

An unfamiliar voice spoke close to him, but all too far away, "You alright there, mate?" A hand was on his shoulder? No. Don't touch the mighty Zim. He tried to protest, only to hear annoyingly raspy grunts.

"Jesus, Gretch, you've got a mean swing there! Have you tried out for any sports?" Jerk. Figures Dib didn't seem too worried. It wasn't like Zim was incapacitated or anything! He worked to ball his hands into fists but only felt his fingers twitch. This was starting to get irritating. Irksome even. Zim would have laughed at his hilarious pun if it wasn't for the stupid heavy feeling.

And another thing,_ why_ was everyone so quiet?! Giggles followed by tsks barely registered in his lekkum making them twitch against some foreign flesh. A hand smelling of disgustingly floral lotion and sweat brushed through his-hair?

Ah. The wig. Right. Stupid thing. He was in his disguise, wasn't he... Wait? He didn't switch into sleep mode while in his disguise! He'd gone offline! When did that happen?!

"Shhh, calm down," the unfamiliar voice soothed, easing the hand from Zim's shoulder to his chin, rubbing under the skin slowly. If it hadn't made his whole body fall into more of a stasis, he would have shrieked in anger.

Dib's voice rang out with uncertainty, "Should...you, uh, be touching him like that?"

"Nonsense, Zim's very tactile. Touch calms him down-or rather-it usually does...Wait. Dib?"

"Yea?"

"Have," the voice halted hesitantly, "have we met before?"

"Yea...um...No."

Zim felt the hands calming him back into an unwanted slumber. "Oh."

The scanner Zim had been clutching zipped close and rolled across the floor, bumping Dib's foot. Confused, he lifted the small cylinder and looked it over. What he had thought were buttons were actually little sensors. Touching one yielded the small screen to reappear, giving Dib several options. He laughed softly and tapped the screen, lighting up brighter than the surface when a grid appeared. "Cool," he mumbled and watched as a quickly beeping light registered in the center of the grid. Huh.

Gretchen's screeches brought Dib out of his Junior-Eyeball musings. (He'd stuff the scanner in his pocket and show the swollen eyeball network later). He swore and snapped his head around so quickly he could swear he got whiplash. Ow. -And "Oh." Zim was on the floor, slumped against the filthy tiles. His sweatshirt was ripped- no - charred open in the back. It looked like his shirt was burned away too, leaving the crackling noise unhindered as the fabric crumbled to the floor.

"ZIM!"

On reflex, Dib threw his arm out, "WAIT," accidentally clotheslining Gretchen. She landed back on the floor, smacking her head. The wires to her headgear stuck out in funny angles from her mouth. She wheezed loudly.

"Shit," he grimaced and pulled her into a sitting position. "Wait here." He swallowed hard. If that had hurt her, he promised Zim silently that he would pound the hell out of him. It was his fault for making him fighter-ready; years of battling could do that, stupid alien! He crept forward and knelt down. Huh. That was weird...the air surrounding Zim felt electrified- literally. The specters must have hit him. According to Zim, though, they shouldn't have bothered him...

Dib's fingers ghosted over the surface of Zim's back and caused another **ZZZZAAAPPOP!** He flew back with a yelp, hitting a locker. Damn! He was really sure he had whiplash, now!

Spider legs ripped through the remaining fabric of Zim's shirt, edges of claws brushed against Dib's jacket, tearing the bottom. Yea, he was definitely going to pound Zim. He clenched his figst and his muscles tightened in preparation to fight.

"Dib! What's going on?!" Gretchen's dizzy, but panicked voice snapped him out of a coming rage. Shit! Gretchen! She was moving to her feet, using the baseball bat as a makeshift cane. Her voice was drenched in fear, becoming louder and alarmingly faster with every passing moment. Dib needed to get her out of here.

"Gretchen-RUN!" He whipped around and grabbed her arm, rushing toward the hallway doors. He shoved his own hand against a locker to propel them forward. "Don't look back, just fucking run!" He pushed through the doors and ran hard, turning a corner and grunting when he slammed into a hard surface.

"Whoa, there!" the obstacle shouted, throwing steady arms around Dib's shoulders to hold him up. Gretchen bumped into Dib's back, scraping his neck with her abused headgear.

Everything stood still for a moment. Dib was surrounded by the smell of tea, bananas, and fair food. Three heartbeats rang in his ears-though he was sure one of them was his own-and he couldn't help but nuzzle into it a little. It was like time itself had taken a break as those firm hands moved to his shoulders and yanked him back into the real world.

"Sorry, tend to have that effect on people!" The man laughed a little, "Now then, we were running, weren't we? I believe you're going the wrong way though."

"Nope!" Dib quickly fanned himself free of blush and grabbed Gretchen's wrist again, "this way!" His hand found its way to the strange man's as well and he tugged them both towards the cafeteria. If nothing else, maybe he could attack Zim with the disgusting food. It might scare him off, even while he was possibly possessed.

"Wait, Wait, we should be running towards him!" The man complained, but followed anyway. He could have easily ripped out of Dib's grip, but may as well humor the boy, right?

Gretchen was more than thankful when they finally stopped, hiding in the cool, but smelly kitchen. She braced herself against the wall and slid to the floor, leaning on her bat as she fought for breath.

"Who are-"

"Shhhhhh" the man cut Gretchen off and peeked out of the doorway.

"_esssstssssss..._"

Gretchen squeaked a little and gripped tighter on the bat. She leaned towards Dib, "is that Zim?"

Dib swallowed hard and strained to listen. "_p...please...!_" Low, dreadful sobbing echoed through the cafeteria. "_T...taaaa...ssssstsssssss_"

"I thought these creatures were supposed to be fun..." Gretchen all but whimpered into Dib's ear. "Mischievous...but...he sounds like he's..."

Zim's sobs echoed louder, making Dib's stomach churn. This was disturbing.

The man looked at the teenagers and frowned. "They use the strongest emotion they can find. In most creatures, it's joy... Dib, what did you do to him? He's not usually like this." He looked at him like a disappointed parent, "you know how sensitive he is."

"What?! Me!?" Dib shouted and almost choked when a firm hand clamped over his mouth. The scent of engine oil on his fingers was intoxicating. Seconds ticked by as the sounds of metal claws clicked towards the door.

Gretchen fought the fearful tears in her eyes as the door slooowly edged open. Zim, hanging limply from his spider legs, stared with wide, tear filled eyes at the floor. Drool dribbled from his lips as low sobs tickled the air. He lifted his head slightly and his eyes searched the room, landing on the girl. "_R...Red...P..purple. Tallesssst..._"

"This is not good..." the man muttered, "Gretchen...come here...slowly..."

"M...Me?" Gretchen glanced between Zim and the mysterious gentleman.

"_P...Purple!_" he reached out weakly, his hand wiggling just slightly in her direction. He seemed to flinch when she lifted the bat and began to sob with a terrifyingly blank expression.

She dropped the bat and lifted her hands defensively. "Purple. Right...I have purple hair...do you remember me?" She reached out to touch his arm, "It's me, Gretchen."

Zim screeched in desperation, "_MY TALLESTS RECONSIDER!_"

"AHSHITSHISHIT!" Dib tackled her to the ground, tucking her into his chest while they rolled along the linoleum. He curled around her to shield her from seeing the laser that attacked the area she had just stood.

"Oh Good! His reaction time is slowed down!" The man grinned and reached through his-was he wearing a fucking suit jacket?!

Wait. Dib frowned and stared at the man in disbelief. He was wearing a brown pinstripe suit...and high toppers. What? Who the hell was this guy!? He pushed himself off of Gretchen quickly and stood, "Gretch! Get out of here!" He wanted to pull his hair out, she was frozen on the floor!

Her thoughts all rang out in excitement. Dib had touched her. He had even protected her. Oh wow. Oh wowwee wow wow. She giggled giddily into her sleeve and fought the urge to kick her feet and wiggle on the floor in ecstasy! She peeked up to look at Dib-hoping to admire her protector-and gasped in fear.

Zim snarled angrily, staring at the empty space and turning to Dib as the man started shouting, "Oi! Dib! Can you keep him occupied for about three minutes?-Aha, there you are!" He pulled out a ...flashlight? Or...was it a screwdriver? Maybe a probe?-Whatever. Regardless of what it was, he'd perched a pair of glasses on his nose and started fiddling with tiny buttons on the object's side.

Great. Gretchen was frozen for whatever reason and he had to deal with a nutcase. With a mighty exclamation of "**FINE**," Dib lunged out and punched at one of Zim's spiderlegs. OW! "MOTHERFUCKINGDAMNITSHITSHITSHITCUNTBITCHTITTIES" He waved his hand around in pain, "Damnit, Space boy! Can't we go one month without you causing me bodily harm!? Just one?!-Shit-" Zim definitely noticed his attempt at least. He lunged for the boy, giving him just enough time to cover his face.

"HAH!" With a loud yawp, Gretchen slammed her bat into Zim's head, knocking him to the floor. "DON'T TOUCH HIM!" She turned the bat and smashed it into the side of his face, making sure he was knocked out for the count.


	8. Repairs

"So, what do we do now?" Dib asked, his shoulders slumped.

It had been maybe an hour since Gretchen had knocked Zim out cold, and it was clear his stasis mode had not kicked in. He couldn't help but worry.

The Doctor, on the other hand, just smiled calmly. "He's almost done absorbing the energy in the area. If we don't capture it now, the beings will multiply and spiral back out of control."

"Wait," Gretchen frowned, staring at the unconscious Zim. "We saw what happened with just one of those things inside of him...what'll happen when you put them all in there? Won't he," her voice dropped to a whisper, "I mean...will he die?"

Her fear was almost palpable. Dib was startled by her concern, but found himself fighting an anxious feeling in his stomach. "He's not reacting well, is he?" He fought the hot anger rising through his chest when the time lord sighed and brushed his fingers through Zim's wig like he was a pet or a child. It was so disgustingly tender and out of place! At least to Dib. This was the guy he'd been battling since he was a child, and he _**knew** _that this attention was completely unwanted.

"No," The Doctor admitted, "but that's why I brought something to repair him." When he didn't continue, the two teenagers exchanged a look. It was Gretchen who spoke up first, yet again.

"What do you mean '_repair_' him?"

For a moment, he looked like a fish. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times. "Zim's able to stably live from this device on his back. He calls it a flat-pak. The high amount of energy is helping pull in the mood-beings-I think you call them 'energy specters,' right Dib? I have the means to repair it for him."

Her eyes widened as she nodded, "Right...for his cancer, yea? That's why he always wore that weird life support backpack." Dib was surprised that she'd come to this conclusion, but there was no way he was going to correct her. "I was wondering how he was suddenly all better...his skin even looks healthier. This must be a more high tech version, yea?"

Dib nodded fast and spoke before The Doctor could interject, "That's right. His cancer is actually in remission, but it did a lot of damage to his insides over the years. This lets him live like a normal teenager." Perfect. He hoped this was a rumor...wait. No he didn't. Damnit. It's not cancer that caused his green skin, Zim's an alien! For fuck's sake. When did he start forgetting that?

"Right you are," The Doctor agreed snappily, "but as I was saying, I have the means to help him."

"Yes, but you haven't said _how_," Gretchen said as she twisted a broken wire between her fingers.

"How would you like to see the T.A.R.D.I.S.!?" He avoided her question and hopped up, cradling Zim to his chest. Dib thought he looked so small.

"What?" Dib's eyes lit up when the words finally sunk into his brain. He'd read about the Tardis in the swollen eyeball archives, but he'd never thought he'd get to see it. Did it really look like a police box? Why the hell would any man fly around time and space in something that small?

Gretchen set her hands on her hips, "that had better be where your tools are. If we can't trust you to help Zim, then we need to call a hospital like ten minutes ago!" Dib groaned again inwardly. How did she stay focused when he couldn't? "Come on, Dib," she grabbed his jacket sleeve with a fierce huff and started walking towards the doctor, "You. Walk. Now."

"As direct as always," The Doctor chuckled and started walking, making his way to a second floor classroom. Dib stayed silent, stunned by Gretchen's change of attitude. He opened the door to reveal the blue police box sitting front and center of the room, just in front of the teacher's desk. He pushed open the door and stepped in, "Here we are; follow me."

An elated glee rushed from Dib's lips, making him blush from how unmanly it sounded to his own ears. "IT'S BIGGER ON THE INSIDE, I KNEW IT."

Gretchen's eyes were wide and shiny, but she worked to stay focused. "Well? What about Zim."

The Doctor grinned pridefully at Dib's statement and his smile only got wider with Gretchen's insistence. "You'll have to wait here." He slipped out of sight to a seemingly random doorway and reappeared a few minutes later-alone. "I can't be in there for the process."

The young girl frowned but let it go. She finally started to relax and realized her hand still clutched the leather of Dib's sleeve. She unclenched her fingers but let them rest against his arm. It was so warm. Her cheeks glowed a deep pink as she absently began stroking up and down his covered bicep, marvelling at how defined it was despite his skinny frame. Wow. Wowee Wow.

"Uhm," Dib blushed hard and peeked at her through his bangs. He hated feeling so shy, but he couldn't help his awkward nature. "What are you doing?"

"_Nothing_." Gretchen snatched her hand away and slapped it against her side, now standing straight. She made a mental note not to wash her hands until she got a good wiff. No, she wasn't strange. At least, she was mostly sure of that. Girls sniffed guy's clothes all the time, so she should be able to sniff her hand that was on his clothes, right? Right.

"Sooooo," Dib rubbed his fingers over his hair scythe for a distraction, "you know us?"

The Doctor beamed, "yes...and you know me. Or you will, soon enough. It gets a bit complicated at times. I've known you all for quite some time, but I suppose your first time meeting me had to happen sooner or later."

He was ready to burst with excitement. There were so many questions piling up in Dib's head, and he wanted to ask every single one of them, but all he could fit out of his mouth was, "We spend time together?!" His cheeks heated again. That didn't sound the way he wanted.

The older man just laughed, "yes, we do. Quite a bit. You all have been exceedingly helpful more than once...but I can't say too much on that subject. Things will happen when they happen."

"**doctor**," a low voice drifted through the room, echoing from the doorway. Dib couldn't see a figure there, but the voice had a nagging familiarity he couldn't place.

"Ah, that'll be him. Just a mo," his high toppers squeaked against the floor as he paced back into the other room.

Dib grunted and bounced his knees, trying to adjust the dead weight on his back. Zim was tiny, but hell, he was so fucking heavy. Was it because he was unconscious or was the alien just naturally dense?

Gretchen reached over and adjusted her sweatshirt over Zim's back. "Just facebook me to let me know everything's okay. I want to know the instant he wakes up." She gave Dib's shoulder a squeeze and hurried up her driveway. "Get home safe!" she called out, waving from her porch.

"Thanks!" He would have waved back, but both hands were placed firmly under Zim's rear end, keeping him stable against his spine. He chuckled under his breath as he heard Gretchen slurp the excess saliva from her headgear before shutting her door. "Alright, Zim, just you and me."

It was only another mile to his house, but Dib was ready to collapse. He'd already walked two from the school to Gretchen's house. All the way there she'd been adjusting and readjusting Zim on his back, fearful he'd fall or was uncomfortable or too cold. He'd have carried Zim in his arms if he wasn't **so. god. damned. heavy.**

The walk home, however, left Dib with some time to think. Why was Zim so affected by the energy specters? He'd never imagined the soldier to have any emotion but pride and maybe boredom, but… he really seemed upset. What was it he'd been calling for? Right. His tallests.

Dib worried his lip and bounced his knees again as Zim started slipping. "Something happened with your leaders, huh?" Maybe he was punished for taking so long conquering Earth? He sighed and shook his head a little. It was for the best, anyway. He swallowed and started whistling, trying to alleviate this weird feeling of empathy and guilt. Zim groaned, and he quieted.

"...You awake?" No response.

He wrinkled his nose, trying to keep his glasses from slipping as he steadily made his way down the sidewalk. What was it the Doctor had said before he left? Take care of him? Who? Zim? Why would he need to take care of this selfish, prideful little bastard? The image of Zim's tormented eyes flashed through his mind and he stopped the thought. Maybe even planet conquering aliens needed friends.

He shivered at the chill in the air and frowned. Dib stopped walking and glanced back. It wasn't him shivering, it was Zim. The alien had lost his turtleneck and sweatshirt, afterall. He knelt down and set him onto the cool concrete. He winced as the alien whimpered and tried to curl up into himself. "Just hold on, will you?" He slid off his trenchcoat and pondered for a minute. "Okay, you had better either wake up now and walk, or stay the fuck asleep until we get home."

With some creative maneuvering, Dib managed to get his own shirt over Zim's head. It was actually a bit funny to see him in a shirt much too large for his frame. He chuckled, but his joy was clearly lost when he worked to get Zim back onto his back. He was about to give up when the alien latched on, burrowing his face into the back of Dib's warm neck.

"Shit," Dib hissed. His face was cold. He wrapped Gretchen's sweatshirt around Zim's middle, tying it around his own to help keep him supported. He pulled his coat over his arms, encasing Zim beneath it like a baby bundle.

He was extremely grateful that he could still close his trenchcoat over his bare chest, despite the strain put on the fabric from the extra person underneath. Dib set a hand under Zim's thigh and gripped a mailbox to tug himself up. Stupid, heavy alien. The arms hung over his shoulders instinctively hugged tightly around his neck, making him gag.

He tugged at his arms until he could breathe and muttered grumpily, "you'd better not wake up**."**


	9. Dreams

Dib thanked whatever deity was responsible for hot water. The shower felt amazing on his cold skin. He felt so much more refreshed after this insane evening, and now he also had a clear mind. Dib tugged on a pair of sweatpants and trotted to his bedroom, expecting to see Zim where he'd left him unconscious on the bed.

"Get the fuck off of my computer, space boy!"

Zim glanced up with a bored expression. His actual skin was present on his body, and his wig and contacts were nowhere in sight. He blinked his red eyes tiredly, "What for?" He looked like a child sitting in Dib's office chair.

"Because it's _mine_ and-where the hell are your pants?!" Dib felt his face heating.

He stood up and stretched. Dib's shirt almost acted like a nightgown on Zim, hanging down to his upper thighs, stopping just above the hem of his thigh high socks. This entire situation felt wildly inappropriate, but Dib couldn't place _why_.

Zim settled on the bed and watched as Dib quickly fumbled to put on a different shirt. What was the problem exactly? The heat was turned up to a very comfortable level in here. "My pants are on the floor," he finally answered, "I don't enjoy entering sleep mode in the torture devices known as skinny jeans." His eyes narrowed as though it were Dib's fault for his own fashion choices.

"...Sleep mode?" Dib asked as he poked his head through his shirt and smoothed it down with his hands.

"Yes…? I cannot walk in this condition," he spat bitterly, "if_ someone_ hadn't knocked me out, I would be fine!"

"It's not my fault you attacked Gretchen!"

"ZIM DID NO SUCH THING," he shrieked in response. "YOU ATTACKED ME FOR MY SCANNER. YOU KNOCKED ME OUT. NOW I SMELL LIKE FILTH AND STRANGER AND SCHOOL.-AND WHO TOUCHED ZIM? WHO!?"

"Dude. Calm down." Dib made a quieting motion with both hands, "stop fucking screaming."

"YOU SCREAMED FIRST!"

"Alright, fine." He sighed in defeat. Zim had started it, but it was better just to concede in this case. Better that than have Gaz come storming in and mucking up the situation. "Just quiet down."

Zim's eyes bored holes through Dib's head as he spoke through gritted teeth-_quietly_, "Who. Touched. Zim."

"That was a man named The Doctor. If you recall, he showed up on the news last year. You were possessed by the energy specters. He showed up out of nowhere and you attacked us. Gretchen hit you with a bat, and he fixed you somehow."

Dib watched him and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

"...Okay, I'll give, what is it?" he sighed.

"YOU LET THE DOCTOR TOUCH ME?! I COULD HAVE DIED. HE WOULD HAVE KILLED ME. DO YOU NOT REALIZE WHAT I AM, YOU REPULSIVE WOOLEN SOCK!? AND YOU LET HIM ATTEMPT TO REPAIR THE MIGHTY ZIIIIIM? I HAVE A STASIS MODE AND YOU KNOW THAT. IT WOULD BE FINE. I. AM. ZIM."

Dib tackled him down and sat on his stomach, shoving a pillow against his face, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE, ZIM, CALM DOWN." When the alien stopped struggling, he lifted it to make sure he didn't smother him to death. Zim huffed angrily, his chest puffing out with every breath. "For starters," he poked his finger against Zim's noseless face, "You. Were. Possessed. We couldn't do shit about it and we waited over an hour for your stasis mode to kick in. It didn't. Secondly, the guy apparently knows all of us and is weirdly protective of you or something. Thirdly, _he_ didn't fix you himself. Someone else did, but I never saw him."

Zim snarled and snapped at Dib's finger, audibly growling when he snatched it away in time. A tense silence followed for several minutes. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke in an annoyed voice, "get off me."

Dib was pretty sure he was going to die right then. He hopped back, landing on the floor with a loud thud. He quickly got to work setting up a sleeping bag on the floor, trying to distract himself from his hammering heart and his red face. This was the third fucking time today he found himself in a weird situation with another person, and it was already getting old.

Zim tugged at lint on his sheets, just waiting silently.

"Okay. Here." Dib took a deep breath and stood up, facing him. "You can sleep here, tonight, but don't think this going to be a regular thing, okay?"

The alien rolled his buggy red eyes in response and crawled onto the floor. He was too tired to argue any further. He snuggled into the sleeping bag and closed his eyes, entering a sleep mode almost immediately.

"..good," Dib hummed to himself and shut off the light. He climbed into bed and fell asleep almost as quickly as Zim.

_Zim curls into the warm chest of the man carrying him. He smells funny, but he's warm and his two heartbeats soothe him like a lullaby. Before he knows it, he's cold again, his entire body shivering._

_"I know what you just went through, mate, but..." the strange man's voice is far away now and he can't figure out what else is being said._

_A new smell envelopes his senses. Hands smooth over his burnt back and Zim cries out. It hurts. Why does it hurt. What's happened? He tries to activate his status screen, but nothing responds. Fingers press at the edge of the pak and he feels his squeedly spooch twist nervously. What is happening?_

_Something hard presses under the edge and begins to pry his flat-pak from his back. Zim wants to scream. He wants to protest, but his body won't respond. Fear enveloped him as the death clock began to tick down from 10 minutes. Oh tallests, this is how it ends. He tries to open his mouth to scream, but his jaw won't respond. What is this? Why is this happening? He never got to complete his mission. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die here in this terrible cold place._

_He felt syrupy, sweet tears start to fall from his eyes. Terror spread through his body, making him feel numb. He's sure he's floating, or he would be sure if he couldn't feel cold under his thighs and hot, sticky tears on his chin. No. No, stop. Soldiers do not cry. Soldiers do not cry! He didn't want to die in this terrifying cold place with tears on his cheeks. This murderer. This murderer was a monster. A sob choked out of his mouth and he parted his lips to suck in air._

_"Shhh, it's over, Zim, shhh," something soft brushes over his cheeks, wiping away a stream of the goopy tears. Over. It's over. He's dying, he's dying. He looked frantically under his eyelids for the death clock. Where was it? Had the timer finished? Had he died? He sobbed harder, louder. His chest hurt and he wanted it to end already._

_"Zim, it's alright," the irritatingly soothing voice crawled into his skull like a parasite. "Calm down...please...shhh," soft, warm something pressed against his cheek, lifting and pressing and lifting and pressing, working towards the center of his face. He sobbed again, only this time it was muffled. Had he been able to open his eyes, he certainly would have. He wanted to know who this was. What was happening to him?! Was he sucking out his insides because Zim wasn't fully dead yet and suddenly his toes were curling._

_The somethings lifted slightly and pressed back down with more force. Zim found himself pressing back, stunned at the electric feeling spreading from his lips. He moved them against the somethings and let out a strangled cry when another hot, but wet something pressed against his tongue. It was weird. It was hot and wet and it made his insides boil._

_"Zim, God, Zim I'm so sorry," hot air brushed his lips as the somethings stopped their assault. Calloused skin worked it's way over Zim's biceps and fingers brushed under his gloves and suddenly the air was far too thin. When had his shirt been removed? Surely it must have been if his flat-pak was torn away. He mewled weakly, feeling nails lightly dragging over the most sensitive flesh on his body. He wanted to pull away and hide his wrists and take off his gloves and make his tormenter do it again and again and again._

_Zim lifted his head and pressed back into the somethings, pushing his tongue out to find the hot, wet appendage. He twisted and tightened his serpentine tongue around it, trying to tug it back into his own mouth._

_Hands moved from his sensitive wrists and fell over his torso, working further and further down until hands were rubbing up and down his thighs, moving higher with every stroke. He spread his legs. What was happening, he wondered idly for the umpteenth time. Surely he had died and this was the afterlife. He hadn't realized there was one and, "Oh-Irk!"_

_He dropped his head back and cried out as something firm and large pressed between his legs. His best guess would be one of the hands but it felt so good and he wanted to scream and kick and thrash, but the only thing he could move was his stupid face it seemed. If only he could open his eyes._

_"-shit," the heat and the somethings and the hands all pulled away at once. "Oh fuck, Zim, I shouldn't be… you're not...we're not…" The being leaned in close and pressed against Zim's swollen lips, "I need to go take care of you now...well, not you you...but...you'll get it later." The beings voice was low and heavy with emotion. It dragged away again, leaving Zim wanting for contact. "**doctor.**" Zim didn't want this to end. He finally found his status screen and activated his healing stasis._

With a gasp, Zim sat up. It was dark, and he was shivering hard. He sat, confused, and settled his head into his gloved hands. "What was that," he muttered to the quiet room. What did humans call it when something was seen in their sleep? "A dream," he answered himself. That was wrong though. Irken did not dream for they had no imaginations-at least not one developed enough to function in that manner. He shook his head, "a memory?" That didn't seem likely either, right?

A small "**!**" icon was in the corner of his status screen. He blinked twice to make it display the alert. A new item had been placed into his pak without prior consent. Odd. He was the only one who could activate the interdimensional pockets, but alright. He'd bite. He directed his machine to show him the item and was greeted with a claw holding the charred bits of…

His flat-pak? He felt his belly twinge. Why would his pak be...If his pak was out, how was he using it? He reached back and tapped at his spine. It was as if nothing had happened. His pak was firm and in perfect condition beneath the cloth of the large shirt he was wearing. Curious.

Zim made a note to examine both paks later, but for now, he still felt groggy. He wiggled back into the sleeping bag and found himself shivering again. However, he wasn't entirely sure it was from the cold. It was cold in the room, but he couldn't place it. His thighs felt too hot and his lips felt strange like they'd been bruised. He blinked a few times then sighed and sat up. It must be from feeling too cold that his body was confused.

He activated an infrared system of sight and glanced around the room. Heat. A lot of heat. Zim crawled out of the bag and pulled himself onto the soft mattress. He slipped under the covers and burrowed himself into Dib's side, falling back into sleep mode.


End file.
